


Dreaming of You

by mlea7675



Category: The West Wing
Genre: F/M, Inspired by Real Events, Pre-Canon, Songfic
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-03-08
Updated: 2021-03-08
Packaged: 2021-03-15 04:00:45
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,817
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29927580
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/mlea7675/pseuds/mlea7675
Summary: Matt Santos never knew true fear until the day his daughter was born. Singing to comfort her, he is reminded of another dark day in Texas history-and the song that came out of it. (Set in August 2000; flashbacks to March and July 1995)
Relationships: Helen Santos/Matt Santos
Kudos: 3





	Dreaming of You

**Author's Note:**

> A/N: This is a pre-series one-shot set over a real-life event. I was watching the 1997 movie Selena and began wondering how Matt Santos, as the mayor of Houston, would’ve reacted to her death. I’m also looping it into my version of how Matt and Helen Santos met and started their family. I promise I will get back to my regular stories soon-I have lots of ideas! I know this is different from what I usually write, but I hope you enjoy it anyway. Please read and review! 

DREAMING OF YOU: 

_ August 2000:  _

Mayor Matthew Santos was working the crowd at the Houston Civic Center. He smiled what his wife called his thousand-watt smile, and said to each prospective voter, “Hi, I’m Matt Santos, and I’m running for Congress.” 

Matt was 39 years old and running for Congress in Texas’s 18th District. As the city of Houston’s youngest mayor, he had come far in his political life, but he wanted more. As long as Helen continued to be okay with it, of course. 

Even as he continued to shake hands with voters, his thoughts drifted to the other part of his life that he was most proud of. He had been married for nine years to the love of his life, had a sweet and funny five-year-old son, and was preparing to welcome his second child. 

They had met at church, on Easter Sunday 1990. As Helen still liked to tell the story, he was looking at her during the homily, and against her better judgment, she was looking back. At the post-service picnic, Matt’s younger sister Rosa, who knew Helen from living on the same floor at college, introduced them. He was 28, and she was 20, but that didn’t stop them. After three months of dating, Matt told her he was shipping out to the Persian Gulf. Helen made him promise to write every week, and she would do the same. It would be nine long months before they saw each other again. 

Matt returned to Houston in May of 1991. Helen was nearing the end of her senior year at the University of Houston, and he took the opportunity to ask her father, a high school teacher, for permission to marry her. 48 hours after he returned from Kuwait, he got down on one knee and presented her with his grandmother’s diamond engagement ring. She said yes before he could even get the words out. 

Little did he know that after nine years of happiness, his life was about to be flipped upside down. 

He was almost done working the rope line when suddenly, out of nowhere, his chief of staff and brother-in-law Juan appeared at his elbow, a panicked look on his face, thrusting his cell phone toward him. 

“Here-Mayor, it’s your mother-in-law, she says it’s an emergency.” 

Matt only took a precious few seconds to try to read the expression on Juan’s face before grabbing the phone. “Kathy?” 

All he could hear on the other end of the line was crying, which scared him even more. Then, he heard, “Matt, thank God. It’s Helen.” 

“Helen? What happened to Helen?” 

“She-I knew something was wrong when she didn’t show up for lunch. You know her, she never shows up late without calling. I went over to your house, and I found her at the bottom of the stairs. I think she must have collapsed and fallen. There was blood everywhere, Matt.” 

His ears were buzzing. “What hospital?” 

“St. Joseph’s.” 

Matt listened, assured his hysterical mother-in-law that he would be there soon, said a quick goodbye, and hung up. He turned to Juan. 

“Helen’s in the hospital. There’s something wrong with the baby.” 

Juan nodded-he was nothing if not unflappable. “Matt, go. I’ll clear your schedule.” 

Matt nodded and bolted to his car, much to the confusion of those around him. As he got in his car, he heard Juan announce to the crowd, “The Mayor has a family emergency to attend to and extends his apologies.” 

He made the ten-minute drive to St. Joseph’s in seven minutes. He quickly spoke to the front desk, who directed him to the maternity floor. He quickly found his in-laws, James and Katherine Miller, pacing the waiting room. 

“Where’s Peter?” He asked as he hugged them both, immediately noticing that his son was not with them; he would ordinarily be out of morning kindergarten by now. 

“With your mother,” Kathy explained. “They had to take Helen into surgery.” 

“I don’t understand,” Matt said in a daze. “She was fine when I left this morning. I mean, she had a headache, but...she was fine.” 

Kathy gestured for him to sit down. “The doctors said she has something called eclampsia. It’s a type of high blood pressure in pregnancy that can cause seizures. They think she probably collapsed and had a seizure when her blood pressure skyrocketed, and then fell down the stairs. When she fell, it caused the placenta to detach from the womb.” The daughter of a doctor, she explained what was happening to her daughter to her son-in-law as gently and correctly as possible. “They had to do a C-section, to save the baby’s life.” 

“But she’s not due for two and a half months.” Matt was flabbergasted. Now his fears were compounded-he was fearful not only for his wife’s life but also his daughter’s. It was too early. They weren’t ready for this. They didn’t have a nursery ready, or clothes. They didn’t even have a name. 

Just then, the surgeon entered the waiting room. “Mayor Santos?” 

Matt turned around so fast he almost fell. “Yes? Doctor, how’s my wife?” 

“Your wife will be fine.” The doctor reassured him. “She’ll have to spend some time in the hospital, but she’s going to be just fine.” 

“Thank God,” Kathy said from behind him. 

“And the baby?” 

“Tiny, but she’s a fighter.” 

“How tiny are we talking about here?” 

The doctor hesitated, then told him, “2 pounds, 6 ounces. Since we’re not equipped to deal with preemies that young, we’re moving her to Texas Children’s Hospital.” 

“How far away is that?” 

“About 20 minutes.” 

Matt drew in a breath. “Will she make it?” 

“Well, a lot of that depends on your daughter. And God.” The doctor removed his cap. “Mayor Santos, there’s an additional complication we need to discuss.” 

Matt nodded for him to continue. 

“Um...sir, your wife lost a significant amount of blood. I’m afraid we had to perform an emergency hysterectomy.” 

He swallowed deeply. While Helen had told him that under no circumstances was he allowed to bring up the possibility of a third child before they got through their second, neither one had been opposed to the idea. But now, they would no longer have the option. 

Nodding slowly, he said, “I see. Thank you for telling me.” 

“You can see your wife in a few hours when they bring her up from recovery. In the meantime, I think there’s a little girl waiting to see her daddy.” 

Matt smiled wryly. “Yeah, I suppose there is.” 

… 

An hour later, he was standing in the NICU of Texas Children’s Hospital, looking into the incubator where his baby girl now lay. She had a downy cap of jet black hair, and her body was tiny and transparent, but Matt thought she was beautiful. 

“You’re beautiful.” He said, running a hand over the top of the incubator. The nurses had told him he couldn’t hold her yet because of all the tubes, but he could still interact with her. “I wish I knew what your name was. Your mom and I hadn’t gotten around to it yet. But, it’s got to be something meaningful.” Just then, he paused as she began to wriggle. She couldn’t cry because of the ventilator, but Matt got the message. He reached into the small plastic port of the incubator and stroked the bottom of her foot, all the while watching the monitors. Her vitals stayed steady. Just then, a song came to him. A song that had had special meaning to him since Peter was a baby. A song that had sprung onto the Texas charts four months after one of the darkest days in Texas history. He smiled lovingly down at his daughter and began to sing, 

_ “Late at night when all the world is sleeping _

_ I stay up and think of you _

_ And I wish on a star that somewhere you are _

_ Thinking of me too _

_ 'Cause I'm dreaming of you tonight _

_ 'Till tomorrow, I'll be holding you tight _

_ And there's nowhere in the world I'd rather be _

_ Than here in my room dreaming about you and me..”  _

The baby girl had stilled, listening to the pure sound of her father’s voice. Staring at her, full of love, Matt couldn’t help but be transported back to 1995, just two months before his son was born, and when he had only been Governor for three months. A normal day in the city of Houston had come to a standstill with one radio report. 

_ March 31, 1995, Second Ward of Houston:  _

_ Helen was in the neighborhood grocery when the news broke.  _

_ Two years had passed since Matt had left the Marines, and the couple had moved into a small single-family dwelling in the Second Ward. They had planned on raising their family in the quiet comforts of Houston, just two blocks from Luis and Marita Santos, and five miles from her parents. The six Santos siblings all lived within the city limits. It seemed like the perfect move.  _

_ And then Matt ran for City Council, then ran for Mayor. Not that Helen was completely against her husband’s political aspirations, but sometimes she wished, particularly as she got further along in her first pregnancy, that when he was finished in the mayor’s office they could have a normal life.  _

_ Just then, the radio playing channel KLTN, Regional Mexican, abruptly cut off. Helen looked up as a voice cut in.  _

_ “We interrupt this program of music to bring you breaking, or some would say, heartbreaking news at this hour.” The usually jovial radio announcer said in a surprisingly subdued voice. “Latin-American performer Selena Quintanilla-Perez, the Queen of Tejano Music, has been shot and killed after an altercation in a motel parking lot in Corpus Christi. She was pronounced dead less than one hour ago, and we now go to our local Houston news affiliate for more on this tragedy.”  _

_ Helen gasped, one hand flying to her expanded stomach. She was aware of the people around her gasping in quiet tones and making a beeline for the radio at the checkout counter. While she couldn’t say she was a huge follower of the 23-year-old’s music, it was hard to live in Houston-anywhere in Texas, really-and not be aware of Selena’s influence. Just last month, Helen and Matt had attended her sold-out show at the Houston Astrodome. Selena had been young, vibrant, full of life. How could she be dead?  _

_ She walked to the front of the store, her grocery list forgotten, and placed her groceries on the counter as she joined the other customers in listening to the announcer detail the tragedy. Then, the music began. The shopkeeper flipped the channels, and sure enough, every music station, even those that ordinarily didn’t play Latin-American music, were covering her death-and her music.  _

_ Meanwhile, Matt was working on some paperwork in his office when his press secretary. Alejandro, burst into his office.  _

_ “Alejandro?” Matt asked. “What’s wrong?” Outside the open door, he could hear calls for people to turn on the radio.  _

_ “Selena’s dead.” He said simply.  _

_ “Who?” Matt asked blankly. Then, it hit him, but it didn’t make any sense. “The singer?”  _

_ “Yeah,” Alejandro replied, his face pale.  _

_ “Is this someone’s sick idea of a prank?” It was almost April Fools’ Day, after all.  _

_ “No, sir,” Alejandro repeated. “She was pronounced dead about an hour ago. Someone shot her in a motel parking lot in Corpus Christi.”  _

_ Matt ran his hand through his hair. This was going to have a devastating effect on the people of Houston in particular. And then, his personal feelings sunk in. 23 years old. His sister Rosa was 23. And Helen was only 25. He shuddered to think of what would happen if he lost her somehow.  _

_ But then, he shook it off. No, he thought. He had to focus.  _

_ “What do we know?” He asked the room generally, as his staff began to filter in. Several were crying, and all looked to be in shock.  _

_ His communications director spoke up. “She was shot by her fan club president after some argument over finances. The news already broke on most of the local news stations, some national news stations.”  _

_ “You’ll need to make a statement, Mr. Mayor,” said Alejandro. “We can’t wait too long with this.”  _

_ “All right.” He agreed. “Get a statement written. Are there services planned?”  _

_ “Not yet.”  _

_ “Well, when there are, let me know. If it’s private, then I’ll respect the family’s wishes, but otherwise, I’d like to go.” _

_ “Sir?” An aide popped in, her face also red and swollen from crying. “Your wife’s outside.”  _

_ Matt nodded. “Let her in.” As Helen walked in, he could tell she was shaken by the news. The staffers wandered out, most in a daze as the radio in the front office played “Como La Flor”.  _

_ He opened up his arms and drew his wife into them. As he held her, she began to break down.  _

_ “How?” He heard her ask. “How did this happen?”  _

_ “I don’t know.” He answered honestly. He was struggling to find the answers himself-how a woman who was at the top of her game could be gone so fast.  _

_ That evening, the couple watched the KHOU special coverage in silence. Around 7:00, Matt’s mayoral staff had arranged for him to make a brief statement at the candlelight vigil for Selena in front of the Houston Astrodome.  _

_ “It’s ironic-and heartbreaking-that just one month ago, I was attending her sold-out concert right here at the Astrodome, and now I’m eulogizing her. This makes no sense to anybody in our community. Even if you were not Latino, or didn’t listen to Tejano music regularly, we all knew who Selena was. And especially here in Houston, she was one of us. I extend my prayers to her husband, her parents, her brother, and her sister, and her extended family in Corpus Christi. One of the brightest lights in Latin-American music has gone out, but her soul and spirit will remain with us forever. We are all grieving as a family right now, and we will band together to move forward from this.”  _

_ There was silence as Matt left the microphone, but as the vigil continued, they all continued to sing Selena’s songs as one.  _

_ And four months later, when her long-awaited final album came out, one particular song struck six-week-old Peter’s fancy-” Dreaming of You”.  _

Matt was brought back to the present by the sound of a nurse saying, “Excuse me, sir? They just called from St. Joseph’s, your wife’s awake.” 

“I’ll be back, baby.” He promised his newborn daughter and left to join his wife. 

… 

Five days later, Helen finally had the strength to visit the baby at Texas Children’s. The pair walked over to the incubator, and as Matt had done five days earlier, Helen placed her hand on the glass. They watched in astonishment as the baby girl appeared to reach back. Both parents grinned. 

“You know, she was fussy the other day, and I started singing, “Dreaming Of You”. I think she likes that song.” He paused, only half making a serious suggestion. “Is the name Selena still up for debate?” 

Helen laughed. “I loved her as a singer, but I also don’t want our daughter to be one of 50 Selenas in her grade.” 

“Fifty?” 

“It could happen.” Matt rested his chin on his wife’s shoulder and watched their daughter. Names began to roll around in his head when suddenly it happened. 

“Miranda.” He said quietly. 

Helen turned to look at him. “What?” 

“She looks like a Miranda. It means ‘miraculous’ in Latin.” 

They turned to look at their baby girl, and Helen found herself nodding. “Miranda Rose. After your sister.” 

“She’s gonna love that,” Matt commented. 

“She’s going to make it, Matt,” Helen said, determined. “She’s going to get stronger, and she’s going to be baptized at Guadalupe just like her brother was.” 

“That’s a good plan,” Matt replied, kissing her cheek. “And she’s going to have one song that’s the soundtrack of her life.” 

… 

Three months later, just after Matt was elected to Congress, Miranda was released from the hospital. Even though Matt spent half the time on the campaign trail, he would always come and visit her. His nightly visits-even by phone call-included a chorus of “Dreaming Of You”. The nurses later remarked that it was his voice that helped her pull through and get stronger. 

After Matt had been elected President, in the summer of 2010, he returned to Houston to commemorate the 15th anniversary of Selena’s Astrodome performance. And with his family proudly watching, he talked about how her spirit shined on long after her death, and how one song, in particular, rose from the ashes, put his family back together, and held the key to a legacy far beyond what they could have imagined. 

**Author's Note:**

> A/N: I hope you enjoyed this! Again, it’s not what I usually write, but I hope to get back to my normal type of writing soon! Please let me know what you thought! 


End file.
